


saturday

by tasmc



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Wally centric, lots of pining, probably gonna write a sequel to this if my brain doesn’t say fuck you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 10:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18871246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tasmc/pseuds/tasmc
Summary: Wally thinks too much.





	1. fuck

There was a certain comfort in it, knowing he could come back to Dick and he would always be there, waiting. It didn’t matter where he came from, a breakup or a third date, Dick was there. Wally need only give a telltale grin and quirk his eyebrow and then they were on each other like teenage boys on the cusp of puberty. It was fun because it was Dick. Everything they did together was fun. Dick was Wally’s best friend. He knew that probably should've meant the whole situation was awkward, but it didn’t.

 

Sometimes it was terrifying. Because despite Wally’s best efforts to keep it as casual as possible, it felt anything but. The intimacy made him feel more exposed than he ever had in his life. Like the whole goddamn world had him under one of Barry’s microscopes. Because Dick was there for him, always. And in the face of such all consuming and unconditional love Wally could only gawk. 

 

They could be great. He knew they could be great. They would be, if they ever got together. But Wally couldn’t risk it. ‘Could-be-great’s had a habit of turning into ‘shouldn’t-have-done-that’s in his love life. He had figured out a long time ago that if he really wanted a person in his life, he shouldn’t date them. Ever. Being in romantic relationship with Wally West just came with messy endings. Probably the whole superhero thing.

 

In retrospect, fucking your best friend who you are definitely in mutual love with goes against that code. But it’s whatever. Because as long as Wally doesn’t truly acknowledge it, it doesn’t count. It’s not a big deal. It can’t be a big deal if he doesn’t make it one. So it’s casual. Even though it’s been on and off for years, and it’s the single most serious affair he’s had in his entire life. It’s strictly casual.

 

Wally wasn’t quite sure what went wrong. It had been going smooth for years, and it wasn’t like anything had changed. He had been ignoring the crushing weight of his love for Dick just as much as he had every other day. One minute Dick was kissing and murmuring into the crook off his neck and the next he was pushing off Wally with a frown. He slipped his pants back on and zipped his fly, which had to be the most disappointing sound in the universe. Then, as painfully sweet and empathetic as ever, said, “We need to talk.” Which, yeah, that was probably the most disappointing sound in the universe, actually.

 

So now it came to this. Wally, sitting in his bedroom, half naked and bewildered, only an hour after one of the most stressful conversations of his lifetime. It didn’t start off bad. The beginning just acknowledged all the minefields Wally has been careful to tread around for years, which was tolerable. But then Dick gave him an ultimatum. A deadline.  _ A week _ , he had said,  _ I'll give you a week. A week for you to decide if you want to give me a chance.  _ A week to decide if Wally wanted to throw away the single most important connection he’d ever made. 

 

In the short hour after Dick had left, Wally had been through three cartons of ice cream. Halfway through his fourth he realized he should probably call someone. He jostled his phone from his jeans, still strewn on the floor from what was supposed to be a quickie. Wally rifled through his contacts, and found an obvious roadblock. Dick was usually his go to guy for problems like this. 

 

He couldn’t talk to his best bro about this. That was fine. He had other confidants, like Barry. Barry was too soft though. He would just tell him to chase his dreams and true love. Donna? No, horrible idea. He had broken up with her brutally only a couple weeks earlier. She’d cuss him into oblivion. Wally scrolled through more contacts, scanning through numbers of girls he had never called back and friends he barely knew. Finally, he paused on a contact. Roy Harper.

 

It was probably his best option. Roy was one his best friends, although they were kinda going through a rough patch because of the whole Donna thing. He had made a point of deleting Wally’s contact from his phone and threatening to block him if he called again. But Roy was blunt and Wally knew he’d give him the truth. And he was probably the only person Wally really could call. He clicked the bright green button before he could change his mind. 

 

“ ‘Ello?” Roy answered gruffly, obviously just woken up.

 

“Dude, were you sleeping? It’s 7pm, seriously?” Wally laughed before he could process his own words, and was met with silence. And then Roy hung up. Wally called him again, figuring a second try couldn’t hurt. To his surprise, Roy picked up.

 

“Fuck you,” he said immediately, with the half-assed frustration that could only come from a man who had just woken up. 

 

“Look, man, I’m sorry about Donna, ok? It was stupid. I’m stupid,” Wally said. Sure, it wasn’t his best apology, but Roy wouldn’t forgive him either way. 

 

Roy grunted in acknowledgment. “Whatever. Did Grayson finally ask you out?”

 

“You knew?” Wally groaned. 

 

“Yeah. I talked him into it. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

 

“Of course it was you,” Wally groaned again, louder. 

 

“Did you say yes?”

 

“I’m thinking about it.”

 

“Go on the goddamn date.”

 

“But, like -“ Wally sighed, moving from his position on the bed and pacing anxiously. “- what if i fuck it up? What if I fuck it up like always and ruin everything?” 

 

Roy snorted. “You’re in love with each other. The dates gonna be fine.”

 

“I know. It’s like - I’m not worried about it going good. I know it’s going to go great. It’s going to go great for a while, and then I’m gonna open my dumb mouth and it’ll all go to shit.”

 

Roy paused. “... Like with Donna?”

 

“Like with Donna.”

 

“Jesus. Look, Wally, you two would die for eachother. You damn near have. Besides, it’s Dick Grayson. His old man is goddamn  _ Batman _ . If there’s anyone who can forgive emotionally constipated douchebags, it’s Dick,” Roy said, voice tinged with sympathy and irritation. 

 

Wally swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

 

“We done? I gotta’ date in the morning.” 

 

“Liar,” Wally scoffed, grabbing his jeans and shuffling into them. 

 

“Shut up.” And then Roy hung up.

 

Wally groaned in frustration, slipping on his discarded shirt and smoothing the wrinkles. Looks like this was gonna be a bar night. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is so old I just want to make it FINISHED

Wally’s phone blared a gaudy rock song, joining the bright sunlight coming through the window in telling him to get off his ass. He yawned and stretched in bed. He was still in the clothes he wore yesterday, a surprisingly common occurrence for someone who could change clothes at the speed of light. He still smelled like sweat, women’s perfume, and booze. He took a cold shower. 

It’s Wednesday morning. he thought, letting the stream of water beat down on his back. Shit. That meant there were three more days till Saturday, which would mark the end of the deadline Dick gave Wally. He had spent about one third of the week considering the date, and two thirds of it avoiding doing just that. Last night, Wally was out til about 3 am going from club to club with his college friends, drinking his thoughts away and letting his mind numb.

Wally just didn’t feel like there was anything to consider. He was going to fuck it up. It was just something that happened in every relationship he had ever had. So Wally had decided when Saturday came, he would tell Dick no. Except there was an increasingly large part of his brain - or more accurately his heart ( and a little bit of Wally Jr. ), that wanted to say yes. It was the part of him that had been drooling over Dick with heart eyes since they were tweens in spandex. The part of him that knew he would take a bullet for Dick. The part of him that had taken one. 

Wally let out a groan of exhaustion, shaking his head of the conflicting thoughts that plagued them. It was too early for this. He slipped into his clothes, finished cleaning himself up, and microwaved a leftover pizza for breakfast, all in the span of a couple seconds. He slumped onto his couch with his pizza in defeat. The speedster picked up his remote and clicked through unfunny program after unfunny program. Finally - the screen lit up with some silly children’s cartoon, and Wally elected it was the best background noise for his morning. He picked up his phone, grimacing when he read one particular banner among the string of notifications. 

A message from Roy “arrow up his ass” Harper from 7:45 am, that read: “have u talked 2 dick yet?” 

“Can everyone get off my ass for one goddamn’ minute?” he exclaimed aloud to his framed picture of his favorite racecar driver, who did not reply. Wally threw his head into the wall in frustration, grunting a cuss when it left a noticeable dent. Ok, fuck this, seriously. He chucked his phone onto his couch, and then, like a child throwing a tantrum, he ran away from his problems in the most literal way possible. 

When Wally was a kid, when things at home got bad, he’d just run out the door the moment they started yelling. It was the only time he felt at home. No worrying about drunk fathers busting through the door. No failing school or anyone. Just wind and feet on the ground. No one can yell at you when you’re faster than a bullet and no one can hit you if you’re too quick. Unless the guy swinging is a super villian with godlike powers. They can hit you pretty damn hard. 

Running was probably the closest Wally would ever get to therapy. There was nothing like running. He was separated from the rest of the world. He wasn’t thinking or worrying, he was just running. He was hyper aware of his senses, his feet hitting the ground, the deafening sound of wind in his ear, and the adrenaline in his veins. Wally felt invincible when he was running. He felt untouchable. He let himself fall into the familiar rhythm. Left. Right. Nothing in his head. Eyes on the horizon. Left. Right. Counted his steps. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Rig - “FUCK!”

Wally hit the ground with an uncomfortable thud, and his head spun as he looked up whatever unmovable object had met his unstoppable force. His eyes met with big brown ones, peering down at him with apologetic mischief. “ - I mean fudge. Don’t tell Barry I know that word,” Bart grinned, floppy brown hair still mussed from his run. He extended his hand, and Wally begrudgingly took it. He dusted a copious amount of dirt of his spandex pants as he stumbled to his feet.

“Jesus, Bart, you scared the shit outta’ me,” Wally scowled.

“Man, if I scare you, then you must sh -” he threw Bart a glare, “ - … crap yourself in a fight.” 

Wally barked a laugh at that, giving him an affection noogie. “Shut up. What are you doing all the way out here in …” Wally paused, realizing he didn’t have a clue where he was. He looked scanned the sides of the road he had face planted into. Fields of corn, miles between each house - Kansas, maybe? He shook his head. “ … the middle of nowhere?”

“Avoiding my homework,” Bart said, shrugging. “What about you, bro?”

Avoiding my issues. “I’m thinking,” he answered after some hesitation. 

“What about? Nightwing?” 

Wally let out his umpteeth groan of the day. Seriously, did everyone this side of the Fortress of Solitude know about this? Did Dick always pass out information about his love life like candy on halloween? “Man, who told you about Nightwing?”

Bart dodged his question. “Are you gonna’ say yes?” 

Wally shook his head. “I dunno’ yet, dude.”

“Well, I know. You should say yes.”

“Well, it’s my date, smartass,” he said, smacking the back of Bart’s head good naturedly. “You’re, like, twelve. I doubt you know any more about dating than I do.” 

Bart slapped Wally’s shoulder in retaliation and his mouth quirked up in smirk. “Dude, it’s not like it’s hard. You have the emotional intelligence of a -” Wally laughed, shoved him and Bart kicked at his shins, “ - a comatose ostrich!“ The man tackled the younger teen, who fell to ground with a shriek. 

They wrestled on the side of the road for a minute, kicking up dirt and coating their suits in grass stains. The two speedsters laid in silence for a second, resting on the tousled grass in exhaustion. Wally cleared his throat. “I guess I’m scared, kinda.”

“Scared of what? He’s superhero too, you don’t need to worry about -”

“No, man, no, it’s not that. I’m not scared of me being a superhero screwing it up. I’m scared of me being me screwing it up.”

“It’s just a date. You’re thinking about it too much,” Bart said, with the nonchalant ease only a child could possess. 

He scoffed. “You’re telling me.” Another beat. “... I don’t know what to do, dude.”

“What would you do when you were my age?”

“I’d say yes in a heartbeat. But I - … I was stupid when I was your age. I didn’t know how shit worked.”

“Nah,” Bart shook his head. “You weren't stupid then. You’re jaded now.” Wally chuckled. “No, dude, like seriously. You let all that shit Batman and the others say get to your head. You got angsty. “ He prodded the other’s chest in playful accusation. “You sound like some fuckin’ YA novel protagonist.” There was a moment of silence. “Don’t tell Barry I said the f-bomb again.” 

“You think I’m angsty?” Now that Wally thought about it, he had been angsting an awful lot. A little more than he normally allowed himself. The superhero job kind of came with an allotted amount of required angst, but the amount of shit he was giving himself over this was admittedly stupid. 

“You sound like a Mikey Way’s idiot cousin,” Bart laughed. 

Wally rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I don’t know what those words mean, I got laid in high school.” 

There was more silence. Wally and Bart had both decidedly reached their threshold for talking about feelings. Wally was grateful that Bart was just as uncomfortable with heavy shit as he was. The young speedster got up suddenly. He left the dirt on his legs untouched with an uncaring ease that Wally envied. Kids, gotta love ‘em. 

“Okay, if you're done moping, I’m gonna head out,” Bart said, gesturing to the road offhandedly. Aw, fuck. He had forgotten that he had no idea where he was. Wally’s surroundings looked just as confusing as they did 10 minutes ago. 

“Would, you uh, take me home?”


End file.
